Just caught this on Facebook, had two member of the 352nd post their D-Day experience

Returning from a mission over Europe on the early afternoon of June 5th we pilots were quickly advised by the Crew Chiefs of our Mustang fighter planes that they had been ordered to get every plane “painted” with black and white stripes, . That meant about 90 planes. These, we came to know later, were the “invasion stripes” painted on every Allied aircraft to make it easier for all the ships involved in this operation to identify us as friendly to avoid our being exposed to “friendly fire.” And rightly so, as we passed over these hundreds of ships as many as six times on June 6th, D-Day for the invasion of Normandy .

Our base at Bodney , England , and all others like it, had been closed off completely. No one could enter or leave and we still had not been told why. Of course, we figured the big day had come. We were told to get all the rest we could as there would be an early mission. Our mission briefing was at midnight when we learned we our first squadron would be taking off at 2:00 am with the other two squadrons taking off about 30 minutes later. It was to be our first night takeoff and the first of three combat missions on that historic day. In the briefing, our Flight Surgeon told us he had been ordered to “keep us flying until the beaches were secure . . . even if he had to give us pep pills. This was not necessary, however, as the excitement of D-Day provided us sufficient adrenalin.

Lining up in flights of four wingtip to wingtip in the pitch black darkness, the sixteen P-51 Mustangs of the 486th Squadron pushed their throttles forward at 2 am and in less than 30 seconds we suffered our first tragedy of D-Day. Lining up in the darkness with no directional visibility, the second flight roared off the big sod field slightly to the right of their intended direction. Seconds later, Lt. Bob Frascotti’s P-51 crashed int the new unfinished control tower being constructed on the high point of the airfield, bursting into flames which lighted the way for the following flights to takeoff. D-Day did not start well for us.

Our 352nd Fighter Group flew three missions that day, approximately 16 hours. Our first mission we flew about 50 miles south of the beaches to join several hundred other Allied fighter groups including the RAF fighters. Our mission was to provide a wall of Fighters from the tree tops to 30,000 feet to keep any enemy aircraft or ground forces from getting to the invasion beaches . . and no enemy aircraft reached the beaches that day.

On our second and third missions we were assigned specific sections of Normandy to patrol at low level with orders to “attack and destroy anything moving toward the beaches and we strafed troops, trains, buses, dispatch riders, whatever. The French had previously been advised to stay off the roads and out of sight. We would patrol to the limit of our fuel, return to base, re-arm, refuel, and back again. It was, indeed, a long day alone in that tiny cockpit shooting up targets of opportunity.

We continued our ground support missions for several days after D-Day until the Ninth Air Force could get established on the Continent and we could return to our primary Mission , protecting our heavy bombers on their missions to destroy Germany ’s arsenal.

Our losses were relatively few on D-Day. We were doing mostly what we had been
doing ,everyday for more than a year, fighting the Luftwaffe to gain air superiority so that D-Day could happen. It was heart-breaking to look down on the hundreds of ships unloading our GI’s onto the beaches and knowing that so many of these young soldiers were dying in their first encounter with the enemy. They had our total respect for their courage. To us, they were the real heroes of the day. May God Bless them everyone!

Blue Skies,

Bob ‘Punchy’ Powell
352nd Fighter Group
8th Air Force

Click to expand...

And here is another

Greetings:

It is early morning of June 5,1944 at the "A" flight dispersal area of the 487th Fighter Squadron. All six of the Mustangs are combat ready. The weather is closed in. Missions are planned and scrubbed. The base is closed at about 3:30. Enlisted men are called off the line to do perimeter guard and to man our few anti-aircraft guns.

Cans of black and white paint and brushes are delivered to each flight with instructions to paint stripes on wings and fuselage. Something BIG is up! Nothing happens,so we are off to chow where among the items served is rice pudding. I don't like rice pudding so didn't eat any. Shortly thereafter, many are sick, vomiting and diarrhea. Salmonella.

The call to the line comes at midnight. A mission is on for 2:00 AM. Our pilots have not flown at night. The field is dark. Hamilton complains about the desecration of his beautiful Mustang with those ugly stripes. Planes taxi out to the far end of the field to prepare for take-off. The Mustangs begin to take off towards our end of the field. Suddenly, there is a terrific explosion about a mile away when a Mustang hits the control tower that is being built near the 486th dispersal area.

Planes return with all of the ammunition used. More missions are planned before the Mustangs are due to return. Those armorers who are still on the line have to re-arm several Mustangs, because many are on perimeter guard or sick. That is what it was like for me on D-Day, the invasion of France.